


a note that rises from low to high

by Anonymous



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "When I feel sad, or angry, or scared," she said, "I take my medicine and then I don't feel as sad or angry or scared anymore."  Klaus was staring at her.  His face was all red and his nose was leaking snot like a faucet.  "Would you like to take one?"





	a note that rises from low to high

Vanya was going into the kitchen to get a glass of milk when she heard it. Sobbing. She looked around and there, in the nook between the fridge and the wall, was Klaus, and he was crying.

This was odd because she'd never seen Klaus cry before. She'd seen Luther cry and Allison cry and Ben cry, and she'd seen Diego cry. Diego cried all the time.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He sort of jumped like he didn't see her. "They won't leave me alone," he said. "And they won't shut up."

"The ghosts?" she asked, then felt stupid. Of course it was the ghosts.

Klaus nodded. "They--they say, they say--" He sobbed even louder and Vanya would hug him but his shoulders were all squashed against the wall so she put a hand on his knee instead. He grabbed it like it was one of the ropes they had to climb over the pit in the backyard. It hurt but that was okay. Vanya wasn't going to let him fall.

"They're saying things that make you feel bad." She'd never really thought before that having powers might not always be a good thing. "Things that upset you?"

Klaus nodded again.

With her other hand Vanya dug into her pocket. The pill bottle was big and unwieldy but she could screw the top off one-handed. She was really good at this.

"When I feel sad, or angry, or scared," she said, "I take my medicine and then I don't feel as sad or angry or scared anymore." Klaus was staring at her. His face was all red and his nose was leaking snot like a faucet. "Would you like to take one? The ghosts won't hurt you as much if you do."

Klaus moved fast. He took the pill and stuck it in his mouth and Vanya gave him her milk so he could wash it down. He only drank a little. Vanya finished the rest because while Father said not to share germs, Mom said not to waste food and Mom's the one who'd notice.

She sat there with Klaus for a while, his fingernails still digging into the back of her hand. His tears slowed down and so did his breathing and he looked at her and he scrambled out of the corner and hugged her. Vanya was still holding the empty milk glass and it ended up between them and she was surprised it didn't break.

"They went away," breathed Klaus into her ear. "They must've seen what they were saying didn't hurt me, so they went away!"

Vanya was so pleased. Sometimes it felt like she rattled around the house all day with nothing to do. Pogo and Mom sometimes let her help with chores, but compared to her siblings, she felt useless.

She didn't feel useless now.

"Any time you want the ghosts to go away," she told Klaus, "let me know. I have lots of medicine."

Klaus grinned and gave her a thumbs up. And then he ran off to do training, and Vanya was alone again.

-

But she saw more of Klaus after that. Vanya would sometimes spend leisure time with Allison on Saturdays even though they didn't like the same games, and she spent a lot of time with Five in the evenings, doing homework or playing backgammon or cribbage. Games that involved using skill to make the most of what luck gave you, so according to Father they were educational and could be indulged in outside of recreational time.

But now, maybe once or twice a week, Klaus would bump into her in a hallway and ask for a pill. She thought he didn't need it then, just wanted to have one on him when he did need one. Once, when they were ten, he hugged her and told her she was the best sister. Vanya was certain that Allison was the best sister, but she felt better about herself anyway.

One morning when they were eleven, Klaus didn't come down for breakfast. Their father reminded them of the prohibitions on: one, leaving the house unsupervised; two, misusing recreational time; and three, buying opioids from random men on the street and then taking said opioids while out in the open. Or anywhere, really.

"But is he okay?" asked Ben.

"He will be. But he could very well not have been."

Father let that sink in. It was an awful thought, and something caught in Vanya's throat, and before she knew it, she was crying and fumbling with her pill bottle and she took one and waited, trembling, for it to work.

-

Klaus was very pale when he came back, but nearly dying didn't seem to have changed him much otherwise.

"I'll live," he said, sprawled out over the pillows. HIs entire bed was pillows. Mom said he was in a delicate way.

"But why did you?" Vanya asked. "Why did you go out and get--those pills? Are mine not working?"

"They work," said Klaus. "They work so well, I wish I could take them all the time--but I can't. There just aren't enough for the two of us."

"You can," said Vanya. "Pogo gets them for me, he could get them for you--"

Klaus shook his head, rather violently. "Dad says my senses seem dulled. And if it might be the pills, Pogo wouldn't."

Vanya liked Pogo, she trusted Pogo, but Pogo reported to their father. "I could share more."

"And then Pogo would tell Dad you were taking more pills than normal. A lot more pills."

"I wouldn't take more," she said. "I could only take half." As soon as she said it, she wasn't sure: she was sick, she needed her medicine. That was how it had been for as long as she could remember. But Klaus was suddenly looking at her like he was going to hug her again, and she didn't want him going out and getting drugs from the street. People died from drugs from the street, it said so on in the newspaper. Vanya didn't want Klaus to die. She was okay with being a little sicker herself, if that was what it took.

"You really would?"

She nodded. "You just have to promise you won't buy whatever it is that did this to you. And I'll give you half of my pills. It's not all the time, but it's not, it's not--" Klaus's sweaty sickbed, the hollow fear that filled her, the way she couldn't stop shaking sometimes.

"You shouldn't," said Klaus. "But I promise." He held out a hand. He was shaking too. "Pinkie swear?"

"Pinkie swear," she said. Her fingers, trained by the violin, were strong. Klaus's were trembling, weak, slippery with sweat.

-

In the end, it didn't matter if Pogo would have said anything or not. One morning when Vanya came down to breakfast, two of the chairs were empty.

"Where's Klaus?" Diego demanded. He always tried to argue with their father and their father always tried to ignored it.

Luther kicked Diego under the table. Diego, like their father, ignored it.

"Number Four is doing an independent training exercise," said Father, "and might not return for some days yet. Put it out of your minds."

But they didn't, they couldn't. Ever since Five vanished last year, all they could think about was that empty seat, and now there was a second. Ben looked like he was going to throw up.

Father picked up his spoon and dipped it into his oatmeal, but before he could eat, he stopped, and looked up, directly across the table at Vanya. "Number Seven, please see me in my study at half past nine. There is something I need to discuss with you."

The something turned out to be a Ziplock bag of Vanya's pills. The bag she gave to Klaus when she got her refill from Pogo. She locked her expression, looked down at the desk.

"I believe these are yours," said Father. "What were they doing in Number Four's room?"

Vanya stared at the wood of her father's desk, trying to find answers that wouldn't get her and Klaus in trouble. They weren't in the whorls, and they weren't anywhere.

"Number Seven?"

"I gave them to him," she said, softly. "After the time he--after the time he was sick. So he wouldn't get drugs from the street. My medicine--it's safe. It won't even almost kill him."

"It interferes with his abilities," said Father. Which--Klaus had said it did. And maybe, Vanya thought, feeling suddenly guilty and ashamed, she wanted him to not have powers sometimes. She wanted him to know what it was like. To know what being her was like. To be less alone. "And if Klaus can't perform on a mission, it might get him killed. It might get another of your siblings killed."

Vanya stared at the desk harder and she bit her lip so she wouldn't cry. Of course. She was stupid. She was so stupid. She--

She squeezed her eyes shut, her nails pressing into the skin of her palms. She was shaking, she could feel she was shaking at the thought of Ben getting hurt, or Luther, or Allison-- But that was why she'd given Klaus the pills in the first place, couldn't Father understand--

"Number Seven," he said again, and she opened her eyes. "When did you give Number Four these pills?"

It was an easy answer, for once. "Last Saturday."

"This is half the dose you've been prescribed," her father said. "You haven't been asking Pogo to make up the difference."

"We thought it would draw attention," said Vanya. "I've only been taking--"

Father's hand slammed down on the desk. Vanya didn't jump but she wanted to. There was a strange look on Father's face, almost like he was afraid, but Father was never afraid. 

"This is your medicine, Number Seven," he said. "You are unwell and you are placing yourself in grave danger by not taking it as directed."

Oh, she thought. He was scared she was going to get sick. Sicker. And that made her feel less upside down and inside out. "I don't feel bad, sir. I think my violin playing is even getting better."

Father held out the bag to her, his eyes like an x-ray. "Take one," he said. 

Vanya did, almost gagging as she dry-swallowed it. 

"You had an episode just now, in this office," Father said. "You are clearly not better on a reduced dose. As for your violin playing, which of your siblings would you be willing to let die in exchange for a slight amount of talent?"

That stung. Vanya dropped her gaze again. "None of them, sir."

Father nodded. "You may return to your studies, Number Seven. Take your medication with you."

Vanya started to go, and then stopped. She knew their father hated it when his orders were disobeyed, but she remembered that instant when he was frightened for her, and it showed, and that made her feel a little braver. Brace enough to stop and ask. 

"Sir," she said. "It was all my idea. Please don't punish Kl--Number Four."

"I am not punishing him," Father said. "He is simply learning a lesson about the value of his powers."

A treacherous little voice that sounded a lot like Five whispered, _Same difference._ Vanya swallowed that thought down. She couldn't lose Klaus, or any of her other siblings. She couldn't bear it. 

"Will that be all, Number Seven?"

"Yes, sir," she said, and went back to her room, her violin. It sounded wrong, so frustratingly wrong, that she took another pill after an hour, but even then all the strings still sounded like they were screaming.


End file.
